I was not a happy clam yesterday.

Clams are happy, right?

Work obligations required that I miss my Spanish class, postpone running, and miss dinner with my roommies. I like all of those things, and as such I was a little sad.

I was to go visit with Galveston kids on campus. After TAMU-Galveston was Iked, about 1,500 of the students decided to complete their semester here on main campus. Yesterday was the day for those students to come walk around campus, see where their classes are, get a new ID, get a new parking pass, and on and on and on.

I know myself. Before going, I knew that -- although moderately disappointed at missing Spanish -- I would perk up once I was talking to the students. And I did. I love talking to people. I love asking them about their passions and worries and thoughts. I love listening to words that, when strung together, paint a picture of who the speaker is.

I love it.
I love it.
I love it.

P.S.-- I love it.

I talked to Kat about it last night. She's a wise owl. HootHoot. She loves her job for the same reason. Working in speech therapy with (primarily) stroke patients, she loves listening to people share who they are. She loves the stories. She loves the triumph, the shared pain... she loves anything that brings people closer together.

So we decided.

We love watching/hearing about/being involved in people connecting because that is what we were made for. Not just us, but everyone. Made to love. Made to accept love.